Chapter 17

Another day has came, the sun rising, the sky turning blue, and my room window brightening as I sleep comfortably on my bed, unaware of the day that awaits me. Mother comes into my room, pulls the bedsheet off of me lightly, sending a vacant chill in my body, and finishes it by opening up the curtains. The sunlight beams down into my eyes as I jolt awake. "It is time to wake up, sweetie.", she says with a strict but calming smile as she witnesses this"Okaasan, I told you not to do that.", I say with a whimper. Ignoring my complaints, she says "Breakfast is on the table. You don't want to be late, right?". She closes my door as I get dressed.

Five minutes later, I sit in the kitchen, scarfing down a bowl of omurice. Father has already gone to work while Mother is wrapping up a bento with some oranges for lunch. "Now hurry up and finish. You are already late.", she says. As I finish my meal, I say "Itadakimasu.", get up, kiss her on the cheek as she's putting the dishes in the sink, and rush out the door.

As I hurry to the gates, I make it in time, being grateful that I did. While thinking this, a red blur speeds out from behind me carrying toast in his mouth, making it in right before the gates close. (It could be worse.), I think to myself as I walk to the front door.

 I see a couple of people conversing beside the door as I walk up to it. "Oh, did you hear? There's some pretty rich kid in our class now! She seems high maintenance.", one says. The other chimes in cheerfully with "The same here, but it was a male instead. I wonder if he has a girlfriend. You think I have a chance?" "Not if I don't!", the first girl replies, laughing while doing so. This elicits a pout from the second girl. "You're so mean sometimes...", she says. "Come on, you know I was joking.", she says. "You're not funny.", the second snaps back.

After homeroom, I turn the corner to head to PE. As I walk down the hallway, a guy flies out of one of the doors, the room being a History class. "I swear I didn't do it!", the guy screams with a pained look on his face. A crowd gathers. "OHOHOHO! You will regret the day you messed with the Fujikoba corporation, terrorist!". A blonde "girl" with hair locks curled into a long series of drills stepped out of the doorway and into my view. "She" was wearing a sienna red version of our blue and black school uniform that only aristocrats and members of prestige wear. "She" had a pissed look on her face. "She" stared down at her victim and said angrily, "Who sent you to spy on me? Watson? Celeste?". "N-NANI!?I-I-I don't even know what you're talking about!", the guy screams, nearly pissing himself. I could tell that whatever was going on, he was innocent. "She" let out a frighteningly rage filled "OOOHOHOHO!", before rearing up "her" fist to punch him. I stepped in between the two, shielding him, and took the punch in the back. It hurt. A lot.

"She" was absolutely stunned by this, and said "OHOHOHO! Who dares interrupt my revenge?". As I recover from the blow, I say "Someone who knows when a person is innocent.". "She" replies, "If you do, please show proof. If not, I would advise that you step aside and let me teach that voyeur a lesson."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that.", I say. The student says "Arigatou!", and runs off. "Yamero!", the mystery "girl" screams out. "She" tries to pursue him, but I won't let "her", as I block her path. "Why!?", "she" cries out. "Because he was about to pee himself. He even has a school uniform. Would a person hired to do whatever you accused him of doing go that far for any price? As a member of this school's Honorary Committee, I guarantee you that there are no spies here, and if they were, they would have been caught at the gate, rest assured."

"She" ponders this for a few seconds, and it adds up in "her" head. "OHOHOHO! Intelligent, observant, and strong enough to withstand one of my punches. You, I like.". I rub the spot on my back that "she" hit me in instinctively on hearing that last bit. It still hurts. I say "Gee, thanks.", as a reply to both "her" compliment and as sarcasm for my injury, but made sure it didn't come off as sarcasm to avoid any further scrutiny. "May we meet again.", "she" says, walking off. "Hopefully not too soon.", I mutter.

Lunchtime comes around. I sit alone at a table with my box. The new "girl" comes up and sits next to me at the booth as if we were friends. Meanwhile, a certain long blue haired boy is sitting in the School Council room eating cake, then suddenly coughs loudly, startling a certain blonde co-worker who dropped a book he was pulling out and a certain bespectacled boss look up from his desk in concern. "Heheh, you ok? Did it go down the wrong way?", the blonde boy says. "N-no. Just felt a slight disturbance in the air, is all. Gomenasai..." the timid light blue boy says, clearing his throat and goes back to eating. The President and his trusty aide exchange looks with each other and both shrugs their shoulders as they continue doing their work.

The booth I sit at was made for two people, but this person made it hard for any wiggle room. One would not know at first glance, but "she" was almost as big in the lower half as a certain pink haired person I know. "OHOHOHO! Rejoice, peasant, for I, Makoto Fujikoba, have decided to grace you with my presence. OOOOOOOOHOHOHO!", she says, her laughs attracting the attention of passersby, embarrassing me. I slump down slightly to let them know that I was not amused. She opens up a box of penne arrabiata with a side of shrimp and vegetable skewers. It was clear upon first glance, that this was the work of a five star chef.

As we eat, I ask "her" what country is her main dish from, a little something to ease the tension. "It is rude to talk with your mouth full, peasant.", she says, eyes closed, facing forward while she takes another bite of said dish with a fork that looked as if it was made out of 24-karat platinum. As we finish, in one last attempt to make a peace offering, I offer "her" one of the oranges that Mother packed. "She" slapped it out of my hand, and said "I do not eat peasant food. Only the worthiest of tastes shall ever receive recognition from my palate." She proceeds to get up and walk off, leaving the slapped orange on the lunch table.
(Too soon!), I think to myself.

The bell rings as I hurry and wrap up the boxes, forgetting about the orange as I was in such a daze over what happened, and head to the next period. A minute after I exit, Makoto, not knowing I had already left, re-entered the lunchroom to apologize to what "she" felt like what could have been "her" only friend, let alone only person willing to tolerate "her", only to find out that I had left. "She" sees the orange that "she" had slapped out of my hand earlier. "She" picks it up and looks at it with tears welling up in "her" eyes, and starts to peel without hesitation. "She" eats the orange sobbing loudly with laughter. "OHOHOUUUUH!", "she" cries happily while eating.